Long Time Coming
by angelofthequeers
Summary: Cas finally drops the L-bomb, and it shouldn't affect Dean this much because Cas was directing it at all of them...except that he kind of wasn't, because if he was then Dean wouldn't be alone in a room with him, undressing him. Just to clean him up, of course. Totally innocent. Mild NSFW, mild panic attack, coda to 12x12.


**Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.**

 **Put it this way. I haven't cried at an episode since Dean's death in S9. So…yeah.**

"Dean, I can –"

Dean bats Cas' hands away from where he's trying to undo his bloody shirt, only to unbutton it himself. His hands shake slightly as they pull Cas' shirt open, his fingertips getting slick with the blood soaked in the crisp white fabric, and he's not quite sure why he's being this… _intimate_ with Cas, but he suspects it's because of how close he came to losing the angel today.

That's not quite right either. He's lost Sam _many_ more times before – _undressed_ Sam many more times before – and it's never felt nearly as intimate as this. But as Cas' shirt falls open to reveal his tanned, lean torso – with only a hint of softness around the belly – Dean's eyes are drawn to the blood coating Cas' side and his heart jumps into his throat. Yeah, Cas isn't bleeding anymore, but the blood serves as a nice reminder of just how close he'd been to death, and the thought leaves a sickening pit in Dean's stomach.

"Dean?" Cas says. Dean wrenches his eyes from the shining scarlet stain but looking at the concern and softness in Cas' eyes isn't much better. It only makes his heart pound even harder, bile rising in his throat, the angel's words forcing themselves into his mind unbidden.

" _Thank you…thank you. Knowing you…it's been the best part of my life."_

Dean swallows and looks away from Cas' gaze, his eyes being inevitably drawn back to the crimson coating Cas' torso.

" _And the things that – the things we've shared together…they've changed me. You're my family."_

All Dean can hear now is his own pounding heart, blood rushing through his ears. He doesn't want to remember the next three words – he doesn't, he can't do it, it'll kill him to think about them – but his mind clearly hasn't gotten the memo, because it practically blares those next words at him through a megaphone.

" _I love you."_

And yeah, Cas had been directing those words at all of them…but _fuck_ , he'd been looking _right_ at Dean when he'd said it., and Dean can't handle this, can't handle the thought of someone other than Sam loving him, everything's suddenly so fuzzy –

"Dean!"

Strong hands grab him by the shoulders and he absently realises that he's not breathing, which just might explain why he's all dizzy. But Cas is holding him – the guy he's in love with actually loves him back, and it's both the most amazing and terrifying thing all at once, and he can't do this –

Before he knows what he's doing, he's shoving Cas away and stumbling out of his room – where to, he's not sure, but he's got to get away from there before he loses his mind completely. He slams the door shut on Cas' protests and leans against it, closing his eyes and mentally reciting 'Back in Black' to try and calm his racing mind and heart. It works enough for the disjointed thought that he should get Cas cleaned up to occur to him, so he stumbles in the general direction of the bathroom to get a wet cloth.

"Jesus!" he yelps when he bangs into Sam on the way. The moose – heh, moose – takes one look at him and his brows furrow in that trademark concerned frown of his.

"Dean?" Sam says. "You okay?"

"Freaking peachy," Dean croaks. Before Sam can ask him what's wrong, he's back on his quest to the bathroom to get a wash cloth and it feels like no time has passed before he's back outside his room – which really is far too soon, in his opinion. He takes a moment to steel his nerves. He's Dean freaking Winchester! He's faced down Lucifer and even God's sister! So why is the thought of an angel who loves him so terrifying?

Oh, yeah. His crippling allergy to human emotions and his near-decade long streak of guilt about causing an angel of the Lord to fall and schmuck around with the mud monkeys. But he knows that if he doesn't go back inside, Cas will track him down and force him to talk, and he'd much rather do this on his own terms. So, with one last deep breath, he pushes open the door and slips inside. Cas is still standing where Dean left him, frowning down at his bloody body, and his head jerks up when the door opens. A small smile touches his lips.

"Dean," he says. "I apologise if I made you uncomfortable just before."

Dean suddenly can't remember how to speak. His eyes fix on Cas' stomach – Jesus Christ, the angel had been puking black gunk, Dean had nearly lost him and the mere thought nearly sends him off into another panic attack – and, mouth dry, he approaches Cas.

"Stay there," he croaks. He sinks to his knees, causing Cas' eyes to widen, and he carefully dabs at the blood as though Cas still has a weeping wound, even though the angel's skin is smooth as can be. Just touching Cas in this innocent way is speeding up his heart again, though for an entirely different reason, and it feels like lightning's sparking where his fingertips meet tanned skin. He's not sure exactly when he'd started to actually want to jump Cas' bones; all he knows is that he's loved Cas for as long as he can remember and this lust crap's only become a very recent thing. But it's also meant that he can't ignore his feelings for Cas any longer. Romantic love? Pfft, he can just shove that deep down and firmly pretend that it's purely platonic. But now he wants Cas' body as well and while romantic attraction is a way bigger deal than sexual, the fact that he's physically attracted to Cas is blowing that 'Do Not Touch' box in his head wide open.

Which means that he's deeply in love with Cas and he can't fucking ignore it anymore. And now that Cas has actually said those words to him, that thought becomes ten times more terrifying. So long as it was one-sided on his part, he could just pretend everything was fine and dandy and keep being the angel's best friend. But Cas loves him back. Cas freaking loves him back and this is way more than Dean can handle in one lifetime. He's surprised he hasn't pulled a 'blue screen of death' yet.

"Dean, I'm clean." Cas' voice penetrates the haze in his mind and Dean realises, with detached surprise, that he's been wiping a clean torso for five minutes now. He tosses the cloth over his shoulder – he's got no clue where it lands but he can just find it later – and, before he can control himself, he's leaning in and resting his forehead against Cas' stomach. He feels Cas' sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck," Dean mumbles. "Jesus Christ, Cas. The hell have you done to me?"

He shivers when long fingers curl in his hair, though they don't do anything more than gently card through it, and he raises his hands to grip Cas' hips tight in an attempt to ground himself. He's not quite on face level with Cas' crotch; his mouth is pressed to the waistband of Cas' slacks but he can still feel a half-hard bulge against his throat and it causes him to shiver again. Cas wants him. Cas actually wants him, in ways that both loads of people and only a select few want him, and the thought should trigger some sort of earth-shattering epiphany but he's met his daily quota of existential crisis, so he just grips Cas' hips tighter and closes his eyes.

"Dean?"

"Shuddup," Dean murmurs. "Having a moment."

He's not sure how long he kneels there, just holding Cas by the hips and resting his forehead on Cas' abdomen, but eventually he musters up the courage to press a small kiss to Cas' skin, right above his belly button. Cas inhales sharply.

"You had to fuckin' say it," Dean says, starting to trail kisses up Cas' torso. Cas' hand tugs lightly at his hair as he raises himself into a crouch and then a standing position, covering Cas' entire front in kisses that progress from small and chaste to slick and open-mouthed, with a few blossoming bruises thrown in for good measure. By the time he reaches Cas' stiff nipples, the angel's breathing heavily, and Dean revels in the gasp he gets when he takes Cas' left nipple into his mouth and suckles. He can't put what he's feeling into words, so he pours it all into sucking and gently tugging Cas' nipples between his teeth, until the nubs are like red iron spikes and Cas is openly panting. Only then does he continue his journey upwards, painting Cas' collar and throat in scarlet marks. Only then does Cas manage to speak again.

"I – I meant it," he says breathlessly as Dean kisses up his jaw. "My only regret is that – is that I waited until I was close to death to tell you. And I understand if you don't –"

Before he can finish his sentence, Dean finally kisses him for real. It's surreal to actually feel those plump lips and Dean groans softly and slides his arms around Cas' waist to press the angel closer. He can feel Cas' erection poking him in the thigh – and he's probably sticking one of his own against Cas' leg, though he can't find it in himself to care – but he's more concerned with swiping his tongue across the seam of Cas' lips, causing the angel to open his mouth in surprise, and then licking into his mouth, drinking in the taste of honey and fresh rain and something metallic that he suspects is a remnant of the black gunk that Cas had hacked up earlier.

"Probably the dumbest thing you've ever said," Dean mumbles against Cas' lips. "I – I love you too, you dork."

He tenses, waiting for the blind panic that should come with saying those words for the first time in over thirty years, but all he feels instead is light, fluffy elation. He lets out a small disbelieving laugh and presses a quick kiss to Cas' lips, then laughs even harder.

"Are you okay?" Cas asks. Still laughing, Dean grabs Cas' undone shirt and slides it off his shoulders, grateful beyond belief that he'd already removed Cas other layers and so he only has to take off the white shirt to leave the angel topless, his marked torso on display.

"I'm freaking peachy," Dean says giddily. He fumbles with the button of Cas' dark slacks but when Cas seems to stiffen, he stops and meets the other man's bright blue eyes. "You want this? 'Cause if you don't, I'll stop."

Cas growls. The next minute, both of them are naked and Dean takes a quick moment to appreciate angel mojo before Cas is shoving him down onto the bed, straddling his hips and crushing their lips together. Dean lets out a groan as their cocks slide together, then loops a leg around Cas' waist and rolls them over, kissing him with fervour.

"Waited too damn long," Dean mutters into the kiss. "Wasted so much time. I'm a freaking idiot."

"I think we're both to blame in this situation," Cas says with a breathless laugh. Dean pulls back for air, taking in Cas' messy black hair and lust-blown blue eyes and reddened lips and chest, and in that moment, he can't even think. Castiel, angel of the Lord, is the most beautiful thing Dean's ever seen and the sight of this perfect being underneath him drives him so crazy that he dives back in for another deep kiss. He's not sure what he did to deserve the love of an angel but if Cas loves him back, he's going to stop being such an idiot and just take it. Cas clearly isn't going anywhere – not after that speech, and not after surviving yet again – and besides, a small, selfish part of Dean wants to make Cas his before any more waitresses hit on him. Yeah, he'd crowed and given Cas advice on how to pick up waitresses, but he'd been seething with jealousy on the inside and he's sure that Sam and Mary had picked up on it. He's not sure he was exactly subtle about it.

"Want you, Cas. _Love_ you." Dean laughs almost hysterically. "Fuck, I haven't said that in thirty years. What the _fuck_ have you done to me?"

Cas doesn't say anything. With one last kiss, Dean shuffles down Cas' body, stroking and caressing his sides and stomach and grinning when Cas shivers and goosebumps erupt on his skin. He's so goddamn beautiful – not ripped with abs, just soft and tan and warm and _alive_ – and Jesus Christ, if Dean could look at one thing for the rest of his life then it'd be this. He loves Sam to bits but Christ, this is so _different_ and yet it's just as intense in a way that he's never felt for Sam.

"You are so fucking beautiful," Dean hears himself say, lost in drinking in the sight of Cas. "And I ain't talking about Jimmy Novak. I know he's gone and Christ, Cas, you just carry yourself totally differently to him."

Cas gives him a shaky grin. He's happier than Dean's seen him in literally years and as Dean continues to stare at him, his eyes are inevitably drawn to the red cock curving up towards Cas' stomach. Dean's never actually had sex with another guy before but he's certainly fantasised about it, though he's not sure he'd be courageous enough to sleep with anyone other than Cas. Even now, faced with the reality that he _is_ going to get to sleep with Cas, he's close to terror, but he forces himself to shove those feelings deep down. He nearly lost Cas again and he'll be damned if he lets his own issues fuck this up like they've done with every other relationship he's had.

"Don't ever do that to me again," Dean growls, reaching out and closing his hand around Cas' cock. Cas inhales sharply and arches into the touch and Dean sets a steady pace – fast enough to provide friction but not fast enough to get Cas off. "You know how fucking terrified I was, Cas? You were dying and talkin' about us leaving you and I couldn't – Jesus, I can't lose you."

"I assure you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that I don't die." Cas somehow manages to sound snarky while Dean's jacking him off, so Dean decides that he's not doing a good enough job and increases his pace. Then he thinks, _'Fuck it,'_ and leans down to take Cas in his mouth. Cas moans deeply, tangles his fingers in Dean's hair, and pulls.

Dean isn't sure whether Cas has just been wound up all evening or if it's because this is only his second time having sex – though Dean can't be sure if Cas has ever jacked off or not, though a small bit of him hopes that Cas was thinking of him if that's the case – but Cas comes quicker than expected, spilling down Dean's throat with a choked sob. Dean's surprised at the taste: salty and bitter, yet one of the best tastes in the world just because it's Cas. Dean's not sure whether it's love or lust that's blinding him right now. Maybe it's both.

"Dean," Cas gasps once he's sagging into the bed, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "Let me –"

For the second time that night, Dean brushes Cas' hand away.

"No," Dean pants. "Not you. This is for you, Cas. Not about me."

Cas falls back against the pillows and watches with wide eyes as Dean crawls on top of him and starts to jerk himself off frantically, already so close to the edge from watching Cas' orgasm. It's not long before Dean seizes up, whimpering as heat surges through his body and his spine and limbs tingle and he comes all over Cas, spurting white ropes across his torso. Cas just whines softly and licks his lips at the sight.

"So beautiful, Dean," he breathes out as Dean uses the last of his strength to collapse next to him, then fumble over the side of his bed for something to wipe all the come off Cas. Cas just shakily waves a hand to clean himself up and then Dean finds himself being bundled into a tight hug as Cas pulls the covers over them. Dean rests his head on Cas' hickey-covered chest, and he should probably be throwing a bitch fit over being in the chick's position and demand that they switch but he can't be fucked. Besides, it's kinda nice to be held like this. He hasn't been taken care of in so long and he's so used to having to care for everyone else that letting go like this is liberating, especially when Cas rests a hand on the side of Dean's head and cradles it against his chest like…like Dean's something precious, like he's worth something. Dean shudders and squeezes his eyes shut.

"It's okay, Dean," Cas says soothingly. "If you need to cry, let go. You're allowed to show your emotions."

Dean shakes his head furiously, then squeezes his eyes shut even tighter to stem the tears threatening to break free and distracts himself by lightly kissing the warm skin underneath him.

"Just don't fuckin' scare me like that ever again," he mumbles. "Jesus, Cas, it'll kill me if I lose you."

The fingers cradling his head start to stroke softly, slowly lulling Dean into a trance. Cas' other hand reaches across to take Dean's and lay his arm over Cas' belly, their fingers still linked.

"I promise I'll try my best to not die," Cas says quietly. They lapse into silence again, until a thought from earlier swims into his hazy brain.

"Cas?" he says. Cas hums to show that he's listening. "This is – I just wanna make sure. This is a – a relationship, right?" He nearly gags on the word but it fills him with a soft warmth. "I just – I don't wanna do this if it's only about – y'know."

He can practically feel Cas roll his eyes before a gentle kiss brushes Dean's head. Dean melts into the touch.

"I assure you, Dean, if I wanted casual sex then I would go and find somebody else rather than potentially jeopardise what we have."

"Smartass." Dean slaps Cas on the chest lightly. Cas just laughs.

"Go to sleep, Dean."

Dean tilts his head back to meet Cas' eyes.

"You'll stay with me?" he says, trying not to sound so freaking needy. Cas smiles fondly.

"Of course I will. I wouldn't dream of leaving you again."


End file.
